


Joan of Arc {or something along those lines}

by axrxvis



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axrxvis/pseuds/axrxvis
Summary: In which Gilbert returns home to find Anne wearing the guise of a hero of old. Or at least he believes so, she is inclined to disagree with him.oneshot, cross posted on wattpad under same name





	Joan of Arc {or something along those lines}

**Author's Note:**

> “We've never heard  
> About a marvel quite so great,  
> For all the heroes who have lived  
> In history can't measure up  
> In bravery against the Maid.”  
> \- Christine de Pizan

Gilbert arrives a small fraction more than a year after he left. He walks back into town as quietly as he left, that is until he reaches the school house.

His absence had been felt keenly by all of Avonlea’s youth, but one in particular. While his communication with Avonlea had been sparse in general, all of said correspondence was with one youth specifically, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. It had not been much, far and few between too. There was not much opportunity for writing on a ship, but he had made time to send a note or a postcard once or twice a month. 

Anne, for her part did not reciprocate, but she regarded her post with much affection. The way she kept those letters she thought akin to Mary’s small verse in the Bible about holding her memories of little Baby Jesus close as little treasures in her heart. While Anne’s letters were not quite as romantic, as what was more romantic than the Baby Jesus, she treasured Gilbert’s correspondence. While she believed the letters would be doubly as romantic if she replied, she never could bring herself to. She had tried -- many times -- but every time it felt clunky and insincere. Somehow every effort was not nearly good enough for Gilbert. Besides, where would she even send them?

It had been a rather unremarkable day, that is, the day Gilbert returned. He arrived too late in the day to attend school and happened upon the entirety of Avonlea Junior at lunch on his walk home.

He was only in view to the girls, and of them only Jane and Ruby were facing him. He saw Anne, who at that moment had been in the midst of an intense reenactment from Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Mrs. Lynde had said it dreadfully inappropriate, especially for a young lady, but Anne appreciated the humor and felt Beatrice a true kindred spirit.

Gilbert had been admiring Anne’s fiery speech and the flow of long, curly red hair down her back when Ruby had shouted his name and Anne stopped entirely. The entirety of the school rushed to meet him, and while Anne had somehow been pushed behind an unpleasant looking Josie Pye, she smiled shyly and sweetly when he called her name. 

That was all Gilbert saw of Anne for nearly a week, as he had all too much to catch up on. By the last days of the school week his arrival back at school greeted him Anne-less. By Friday he steeled himself to go to Green Gables to speak with Matthew about his fields, and perhaps see a certain red-haired girl.

His visit with Jerry Baynard about what he might purchase to bring the Cuthberts as some sort of thanks was awkward beyond belief. The boy seemed to see himself as Anne’s guardian and did not take kindly to Gilbert’s presence. However, he did offer a suggestion, and the trip to buy said gift was enlightening beyond belief.

Josie Pye, who as always believed herself endeared to him (and anyone else she desired), attached herself to Gilbert while at Lawrence’s. “Why, Gilbert! Whatever are you in town for?”

“Uhh, a, uh, gift,” he paused, uncertain under Josie’s too-close attention, “for the Cuthberts. Matthew in fact!”

Josie brightened enormously at the topic, having much to say (too much). “Have you heard what that silly Anne Shirley has done now?” 

“No?” Gilbert’s uncertainty doubled two-fold both under Josie’s intense pleasure at his ignorance, and the topic being one he was rather sensitive about.

“Hah.” And Josie did laugh, an unattractive, mean thing that increased Gilbert’s uncertainty by even more. “Well, I’ve heard from Jane, who heard from Billy, who heard from his father, who heard from a peddler passing through, that she bought a whole jar of black hair dye!”

Again Josie’s ugly little laugh pierced the air, but Gilbert barely noticed. He was much too preoccupied with worry that Anne had gone away with all of her beautiful red hair. Despite his earlier misgiving in teasing her for it, he quite admired her hair, and was much too fond of it to swallow her having dyed it a simple black color.

“--that’s not even the half of it!” And Josie was still talking, Gilbert supposed he’d better listen, or suffer the consequence of an unhappy Josie (that being even more unpleasant than her wholly unpleasant happiness). “The peddler admitted his dye being expired, and her hair must’ve been completely awful. Me and Jane suspect she’s shut herself indoors to escape ridicule at the spectacle. How completely hilarious is that?” Gilbert’s eyes narrowed.

“Why, Josie Pye, don’t you think it a little wicked to be so gleeful over someone being deceived?” And as much as Gilbert felt like Rachel Lynde, he could not help but scold over her frankly scandalizing crowing. Josie’s face pinched right up, and she made an unladylike little “harrumph” of a snort, and left. And for that, Gilbert was glad, very glad.

Soon Gilbert was hurrying up the path to Green Gables with a blandly dressed gift for Mr. Cuthbert. Mrs. Cuthbert was shelling peas on the porch, and when she saw him she gave him a smile -- or at least what counted as a smile for the stoic Marilla Cuthbert. 

“Oh! Gilbert, you here for Matthew?” At his nod she continued unhurriedly. “Well it’s near now tea time. You must stay! Matthew will be in presently.” She ushered him in, and yelled out an “Anne Shirley!” to the tree covered lot belonging to Mr. Bell. 

By the time Mrs. Cuthbert had set him down, given him some bread and plum preserve, and gone to help Mr. Cuthbert in, Anne finally made her way inside. She flew through the house, a whirlwind of chatter and a pretty blue dress. He did not remember the dress from before he left, and figured it was not something he could miss. He really figured it unlikely he miss, or forget much of anything about her. Her usual red hair noticeably lacking in the fray. By the time her eyes finally fell on the well muscled, well tanned, fellow in her dining room, all talk of Diana and someplace called Idle-Wild stopped. All that left her mouth was a choked “Gil-”.

The moment which had been gathering was quickly cut short by Mrs. Cuthbert’s brisk entrance -- turning both heads. “Anne Shirley! The trouble you get into when you could avoid it simply by doing as I’ve said too many times already! If you had come in through the back as you were supposed to, I could have had you clean up, and told you Gilbert came for tea. He and Matthew have business to discuss.” Anne nodded dumbly -- shocked from speech both by surprise and embarrassment -- and hurried to wash up.

Gilbert, at his seat, was also shocked from speech. On his account it was something entirely different. He was enraptured by a lack of long red hair. It being shorn so short revealed high, pale cheek bones. Soft freckles across her exceptionally pretty nose (the one which Josie would every once and a while admit the smallest bit of jealousy over). But most of all her lips, full and bright pink from wind, kept him from saying anything at all. He was struck with the sudden and completely inappropriate desire to kiss them even redder. The desire was quickly shoved away, but he remained mute.

The rest of tea was dreadfully awkward. Anne was unusually quiet, and Gilbert was uncharacteristically distracted. Mrs. Cuthbert’s brisk nature, and Mr. Cuthbert’s shyness only worsened matters. Both the adults knew the issue, they could see it in the stolen glances afforded by both of the children at the table. 

Thus following the talk of land and farming, Mrs. Cuthbert had Anne see Gilbert out. As they stepped out of the house Anne opened her mouth, but Gilbert beat her to speaking.

“I, uh, I like your hair, Anne.” She turned redder than her hair, but looked confused too.

“You do? Josie Pye would probably say I look like a scarecrow. And I suppose I do, without the extra layer, I’m even more spindly.” Her mouth started up again and Gilbert’s lips curled upward.

Gilbert put a bit of thought into how to continue, he did not want a repeat of last time. “Yes, I do.” He paused and Anne stopped to look at him. “I think you look just like how Joan of Arc must have.”

“Joan of Arc?”

Gilbert smiled fully then, “Why yes. Joan. I figure you are probably somewhat like she must have been. You look, hmm” he paused once more. “You look brave, and well…”

At his trailing off Anne’s curiosity kept her from the silence she had been clinging to. “And? Well Gilbert, you mustn't leave me hanging with such romantic words as those!”

“Well, beautiful I suppose. Or rather that’s what I was about to say. You look beautiful with your hair all short.” And he smiled, hopefully.

If Anne had been red before, it was nothing compared to this. She had been prepared to thank him for his letters and explain her hesitance to respond, but now she could never do that. She couldn’t speak of her failings with such beautiful and extremely kind speech. She didn’t understand how, but Gilbert Blythe always managed to make her feel so -- so little. He made her feel practically miniscule -- even when he called her brave and beautiful!

“I, ummm” and Gilbert wondered if he should have said that, for Anne was dreadfully flushed and looked a tad scared. “We’re at the gate, so goodbye! I’d better go help Marilla. Thank you for coming to tea, I--” She shifted uncomfortably. “Goodbye, Gilbert!” and she waved and turning around in place twice, before fleeing to the house.

Gilbert watched her go mournfully, but was happy in being able to see her again. Besides, he now had the wonderful memory of the way her cheekbones reflected the afternoon light as her eyes glimmered happily. That was some consolation at least. He headed down the lane, laughing at the memory of Josie Pye’s face when he had scolded her. It was a good day, that at least was certain.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little something I typed up... I'm not sure if I will continue in this or what, but I quite like it for a short little drabble.  
> and please come and talk to me on tumblr at oh-annegirl.tumblr.com/ i need some friends!!!


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